


Pre-scene episode 12x02 Sam/Dean reunion

by Sylviavolk2000



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, episode 12x01 coda, episode 12x02, pre-scene episode 12x02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-20
Updated: 2016-10-20
Packaged: 2018-08-23 16:19:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8334226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylviavolk2000/pseuds/Sylviavolk2000
Summary: About to be jossed, but who cares?





	

... Toni Bevell pressed back further into the corner, sprawled on the filthy floor with her back to the cellar wall, and she could smell her own fear as the Winchester loomed over her. He stood crookedly, weight off the edge of his maimed foot, and she had always known his exact height but she had never known just how tall he was - and he shouldn't even have been able to move - he shouldn't still be able to fight, not like this - when had this gone off-plan, so badly out of her control? - he should have been begging to cooperate-- 

His teeth were bared. It was almost a smile. He lifted one fist. 

"You lose," he said. 

There was a crash from the cellar door. 

It was the lock blowing out at a gunshot. The door banged open with the recoil, boards splintered and broken. Toni looked past Sam. 

Dean Winchester stood at the top of the stair. 

She'd seen countless photographs. She knew exactly what Dean Winchester looked like caught by a traffic camera with one elbow out of the window of that old car, fingers drumming on the car door, or snapshot in a police line-up, or laughing obnoxiously during a videotaped confession - "I think I'm adorable--" all swagger and ego, as if he expected the world at his feet. Ignorant. Vulgar. An ape of a hunter: everything she despised. She didn't know this man. She didn't even recognize him, at first. Not because his face was speckled all up one side with blood, lividly bruised along the jaw-line, with a split over one eyebrow and more bruising there. He didn't look as if he even felt the pain. He was looking at his brother, and all Toni saw on his face was devastating emotion. 

Sam turned and saw him. 

Sam fell to one knee, the unshot knee. His back was to Toni. A huge shudder went through him. All the time he'd been her prisoner, he had never shown weakness, but now he was shaking. "D-Dean?" 

"Hiya Sammy." 

"Oh God." It was almost a whisper, Toni barely made it out. The younger Winchester lowered his head for a moment, then said more clearly, "How many times can you come back to life?" Then, "You brought back the sun." 

"Was never dead," Dean Winchester said. 

Sam collapsed forward. 

Dean was down the stairs and across the cellar, catching him and lifting him. Holding him up. Sam's arms went around Dean, and Dean's fists clenched in the back of Sam's ragged overshirt. Dirty, bruised hands clenched in dirty, cheap rayon. A knife still in one hand, forgotten. Toni began to slide herself sideways, along the baseboard of the wall, away from the two of them. She couldn't see the younger Winchester's face, but she could see the elder's: eyes shut, lips parted, vulnerable. He didn't even know she was here. Once he saw his brother, he'd stopped seeing anything else. 

His eyes opened and he saw her now. 

"Wait! I can--" She threw up a hand. His eyes tracked suddenly and she realized with a stab of terror that he recognized her voice, but before she could do anything he had swung his brother around - putting himself between her and Sam - and then he was coming for her in a dead charge, no hesitation, and she was slammed back to the wall with his hand pinning her shoulder and that enormous knife coming at her chest-- 

"DEAN, STOP!" 

The point of the knife sliced blood from over her heart, zigzagged sideways through the silk of her blouse, and lifted away. 

"Sammy?" 

He didn't look back toward his brother. His eyes stayed on her, unwavering. 

His face had changed again. It was hard and calm, gaze steady, lips pressed together in almost a frown. 

"Don't," Sam Winchester said unsteadily, somewhere behind him. 

"Why the hell not?" 

"I just, I - she isn't a - uh--" A sound of painful motion. "I, I. Just, ow. Let's go, okay?"

Dean released her shoulder and rose, shoving her down brutally as he turned away. She fell sideways, caught herself on both hands, braced herself with her hair hanging in her face. Huge breathless indignant gasps wracked her. She must look like hell. 

Coherent thought came back. Over there, the elder Winchester fool was fussing over the younger. Any moment now he'd come back for her, with the handcuffs and chains from by the chair. 

She slapped at the bloody cut on her chest, activating the teleportation sigil held in the palm of her hand. And was gone in a blaze of white light, before the Winchesters could prevent her escape.


End file.
